


Tales of the Maw

by BrokenWorld1984



Category: Little Nightmares (Video Game)
Genre: Also guys, Also might add the Bellhop and Ferryman, Feel free to comment your suggestion, If you have anything you want me to write, Yep another Little Nightmares fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 11:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 4,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12816753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenWorld1984/pseuds/BrokenWorld1984
Summary: Memories are a strange thing.It can give you hope.It can give you motivation.It can tear your life apart.But here, where lost things are abundant, memories are, as well.Some lost to time.Some twisted.Almost none retained.But each and every one, forgotten or not has a story to tell.These are the Tales of the Maw.--------------------A compilation of one-shots and short stories from my blog (and some made up on the spot).(Also maybe just something to keep you content until I get back to writing Six's Story. Or maybe not. Anyways, enjoy.)





	1. Playtime's Over

The children started towards the bars after an uneventful day of playing. They all knew the unspoken rule. One kid would hold down the switch in the bathroom while the others would slip through the metal to their respective rooms. Only after a few kids remained would the child holding the switch make a run for it along the the last kids. Nobody wanted to stay in the playroom after everyone else left. If what the older kids said were true, then shadows came alive in the dark and ate you alive.

All the children wondered why the bars were there in the first place. Some said it was to keep vermin out, the young ones stuck to the belief that it kept the living shadows at bay. The electricity was always off when they woke up, and would stay that way until they heard the unmistakable zap as the bars powered on. But to add to their fears, every year, children who fell victim to illness and starvation and even children who had nothing wrong with them, were never to be seen again.

The children questioned it, of course. The stories surrounding their disappearances only fortified the youngsters’ fear of the dark and what lurked within. Eventually, they stopped questioning. There was nothing to be done about it. New arrivals would come to make up for those they lost. But one day, one child decided she had had enough of the fears she lived in. She didn’t want to die here.

Over the weeks, she ‘borrowed’ her fellow childrens’ bedsheets, knotting them together and eventually stowing it away in the bathroom. She found a flashlight stashed in the trunk under her bed. She planned her escape. But on the night she chose, she had no idea of what she would encounter.

Nor of the boy who had woken up and was following her.


	2. Cold

The boy wakes up to the screech of metal on metal. Why did his bed seem so cold all of a sudden? Why was it cold everywhere? The rooms weren’t this dark—

_…oh._

_Oh._

_Oh no._

He wasn’t on his bed. He was in a cage. How did he get here? He had a million questions. Then he saw them. His cage wasn’t the only one here. They lined the walls, some gathered in the center, some small, some large. Each and every one of them contained at least one child. And they weren’t just random kids. In one cage was the bigger kid that stole his food, clutching his stomach. In another was the girl who drew pictures in her spare time. She was crying. And in the cage beside him was his friend, curled up. They— all of them— had gone missing days ago. But his mind focused on his friend. The boy’s arms could reach through the bars of his cage, and he tried to gently shake the other boy’s body. No response. He shook harder, trying to will the thoughts in his head away…

To no avail.

He stopped in defeat, about to cry when he saw the door open. Someone was here. Maybe to rescue them, all of them? The boy hoped it was their caretaker. He was here! He could get us out of this place! He could–

…

Whatever hope the poor child had faded once the Janitor took hold of the artist girl’s cage and dragged it away, producing the horrible screech that had woken him up. He slumped against the cold metal. There was nothing he could do.

He waited.

 

Out of sight.

 

Out of luck.

 

Waiting for his turn.


	3. Beautiful

The Lady woke up to the chiming of her clock. It was still early, but she knew she had to prepare. Guest season was here, and the ship would be docking soon. She got out of bed and went over to the vase on her bedside table, her eyes avoiding the painting of a girl in yellow, even though the canvas was mostly covered and what could be seen was shrouded in shadow. The vase was a gift to her long ago, and although she could not remember who gave it to her, she kept it close to her, instead of it being stowed away in the back room of her Quarters. Inside was a key that led to her closet, and by extension, said back room. She didn’t teleport there, though. Doing such a thing was a bit draining, and she could never face the Guests looking like a mess. That was the last thing on her mind. God _forbid_ that happen.

Once she was in her wardrobe, she looked at the many kimonos she had. Some were in closets, most were folded and stowed away in boxes, and her best were displayed on mannequins. In her spare time, she made her clothes herself. She was skilled at her craft. Most of her kimonos were made in a traditional fashion, some were more on comfort rather than style, but she eventually chose her personal favorite: a brown kimono, with a sash with a lighter shade. Simple, yet comfortable and beautiful in its own way.

She then made her way to her vanity, getting her brush and untangling the knots in her hair and pulling it into a half bun, humming a tune to pass the time. Then came the mask. When she picked it up, she stared into the blank expression it beared. For a second, she wondered if there could be another way… but no. The Maw must survive. Even though nobody was watching, she steeled her expression until it almost exactly matched that of her mask, the second face she had come to live with. Then she put it on, the porcelain cool against her skin. When she looked into her shattered mirror, she saw herself reflected in a million pieces.

All beautiful.

All a façade.

She stood, and made her way to the elevator, thinking of nothing, letting the silence envelop her.


	4. Hurry, Hurry!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in a Nome's life.

The silence in the Lair was broken by the terrified noises of a Nome and the jangling of keys from its pursuer. In the oddity’s hands was a piece of coal that it had found lying around.

The room was silent, then, and the Nome had been wandering, holding the small chunk of coal, going around the books and navigating its way through the maze-like shelves. The sudden blast of noise from the other room nearly made it run into a bookshelf. It instead went under the structure, listening for danger.

It heard the plodding of footsteps toward the source of the loud music, then from under the shelf, it saw two small legs and the hem of something yellow- a dress, maybe? No, it was too stiff to be a dress. The clothing seemed familiar to it, but never mind that. The music blaring in the next room came to a stop, and the silence following was uncomfortable. After a few seconds, the Nome deemed it safe enough to come out of its hiding place.

Bad decision.

The next thing it knew it was being chased, and it was gaining.

It ran on pure adrenaline, not even considering to duck under another shelf until the threat was gone. Left, then right, then right again. Everything in the room looked the same when the Nome was running for it’s life. Then the oddity saw a miracle. It was nearing a wall. A wall with a vent. A vent! The Nome ran faster, and practically jumped into the opening. It ran a good distance from the entrance, until it knew that it wouldn’t be caught by the Janitor’s long arms. It now wandered the cold walls of metal, looking for another way out. It looked at the coal it had been holding, and loosened the grip on the object (it realized it was holding onto it like a lifeline). It wasn’t the best thing to draw with, but it was a start. As it found another exit, it saw familiar territory.

It was in it's little area. The Nome recognized all the papers strewn about, some with drawings on them, some blank. When what it wanted to draw was too small for paper to hold, it used the walls. The Nome was an artist of sorts; most of its works were those of the children it had seen (but never approached), and the blind Janitor. The Nome knew the impossible man was fine with the children, but seemed to dislike Nomes. Why, though? Maybe he got them confused with the sounds of the leeches? It didn’t know.

It got a sheet of paper, and started drawing. It didn’t really mind what it drew, as long as it made something. The Nome started with a diamond near the top, a smaller one inside. Then a triangle for the dress-thing? Maybe. And lastly, two lines for the arms and legs. It looked at it’s new drawing.   
Dull, it thought, and looked for the crayons it had found in the Prison. The only ones the Nome had were yellow and red. There used to be a black crayon, but it got lost, so it used coal as a substitution. More abundant than crayons, plus it didn’t exactly want to go near the Prison anytime soon. The Nome got the yellow crayon and started coloring in the figure. When it was finished, it looked at the drawn-on paper. It wanted to try something different this time, so it colored the rest of the paper black. The Nome was satisfied with this, then it remembered where it had seen the inspiration for it’s drawing: A little child, probably a girl, dressed in yellow, running towards it before the Nome heard the sound of wood breaking and the child was gone.


	5. Back Beneath the Waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events of Little Nightmares.

…

She made it.

After everything that she’s been through… she made it out of the horrid place she used to call home. She was glad she wouldn’t be calling it that any longer. She took in the sky, weak daylight shining on her yellow raincoat. She smiled the widest she had ever smiled, and began to laugh. She was free! It took a full minute for her to recollect herself. Then she thought. Even though she was happy she made it out, even at her young age…

Six knew that it hadn’t come without a price.

She had left the only place that she knew for something different. She had cut off a man’s arms (technically, it was the door, but it wouldn’t have happened it it weren’t for her). She had taken a life by her own hands, and had taken many more with this… power she had recently acquired. 

She could feel that it– she– was unstable. Lights flickered and died when she came near. Black fog followed her with every step. And as of earlier, she killed, but it felt natural. It felt normal. And that scared her.

Six may have gotten out of the Maw, but what lay before her on the mainland? People would regard her as a freak, a threat, a monster! They’d restrain her, or worse…

If she left, the best thing that could happen to her was to live in the woods, or any other abandoned place where nobody could find out about her.

… Six thought about that for a while.

A ship’s horn blew in the distance, signalling the near arrival of the next crowd of Guests.

Then Six decided it was better to stay here then to risk the dangers of the outside world. At least in there, nobody would have to understand.

In there, she had all the time in the world to get used to her newfound powers.

She headed back inside. 

The Maw must live on, after all.


	6. Deep in the Depths

Silence.

She enjoyed it when it was nothing but the cold embrace of water around her, all sounds from above dulled and muted.

Somewhere, though, she could hear water dripping down from above, the sound accompanying the other several, resulting in a somewhat musical effect. Another leak had sprung today. That was normal.

She had been here for a long, long time, longer than even she can remember. But she recalled small voices, children, she supposed, the little ones referring to her as 'Granny', before the hate and the anger. It was such a long time since she had ever seen something new. Nothing down here but the bloodsuckers and decay and abandoned things, like her.

During her first days here, she screamed, screamed and shouted until there was nothing left of her voice but rasps and pain. Everything hurt. When the first month came around, she had gotten used to the silence, not daring to speak, knowing nobody would ever hear her. She found that the water soothed her aches. That first month was spent getting accustomed to her new surroundings. She wondered what this place was, before it became a literal dump. During the second year, she found she could breathe underwater. That time was spent cleaning up the place as best as she could, to allow for her to move around easier. And the years after that were particularly uneventful. Nothing ever came down here unless it was by accident. And they never went into the waters. Ever. Why they didn't, she didn't know. Was it too cold for their liking?

Granny loved to ramble. She just did it in her head, having conversations with herself when there was nothing else to do. She--

What was that...?

A splash. Not too far from where she was. Even with her clouded eyes, she could make out arms... Two legs... Swimming in the murky water. It was a child! Oh, it's been far too long since she'd last seen one! She crawled through the water, reaching out for the small form when-  
it disappeared.

Granny narrowed her eyes, wondering where it went. Then she figured it must've climbed on top of that crate. Silly her. She gave the wooden structure a push from underneath, hoping to drop the human back into the water. No such luck. The Depths were silent once again, but Granny had something to do after so many decades:  
She was going to keep that child here, whether it liked it or not. She's been alone here for too long.


	7. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events that happen shortly before the events of the main game. 
> 
> Inspired by this: https://youtu.be/59S_9YYw110

……

…….

……..

Where were you?

You were…

Alone.

Left behind.

Forgotten.

Lost.

…why, though…? 

You didn’t want this. You were just a child. Just a child, just a child… Your governess… where…? Where was she…?

She…

She abandoned you. 

…Right?

Yes, she abandoned you, left you to the darkness, to fend for yourself. You, an innocent child, cast into the deepest depths because of her. She wanted this. She didn’t want you interfering with her business, and she made sure you wouldn’t interfere ever again.

….

… How _dare_ she.

Left you alone, in the darkest, coldest place in this prison you call ‘home’, with nothing but the clothes on your back.

…

She will pay for this.

 

Her Ladyship will **pay**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: Since the title of the composition was "The Monsters Within", I decided to make a scenario where Six isn't full-on killer mode yet, but it shows a little.  
> ...  
> That description went better in my head.


	8. Deep in the Depths (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by MidNight270. What if the Granny found the Runaway Kid?

Granny was currently in the largest of her many personal areas, relaxing in an armchair, listening to the faint, music-like dripping of water and the steady him of static from a nearby (and somehow functional) television. She had taken a rest after countless minutes of trying and failing to get him. The child was very stubborn, he would not stay still! Every time she came near him, the human swam even faster, heading for the nearest dry ledge. Somehow, he found out that she could not pursue him out of the comforting cold of the water. That made the task of getting the boy significantly longer, since he now hesitated every time when he saw a body of water and made it through as quickly as possible.

Time after time, she bumped crates and suitcases with long-forgotten things, in hopes that the boy would be on top and come tumbling into the water. And time after time, she was wrong. It frustrated her, and also worried her. Why was he so afraid, so determined to escape? The children she was tasked to care for when she was still above were more obedient than him, she thought. They loved her stories, and playing with, her, before the hate and the anger and the screaming began. But that was a long, long time ago, and she could no longer be sure.

Soon, though, she heard a great splash, alerting her to her right. The door a few feet above the water had toppled over, probably from age, and she could see in the dim light, standing on top of the now-floating door, was the child! Surprised to see him here, they looked at each other for a moment, then her senses came back to her and she slid off her chair, back into the water. She was not going to let him go this time. She struck the side of the door above her, and to her shock, it splintered into two. Either that door was extremely old... but it didn't matter. The boy had reached the end of the areas accessible to her, and she knew that if she didn't catch him now, she would never see another child again.

Granny saw the human climb onto a platform and saw that it was only supported with a few flimsy beams of wood. She grabbed hold of one, and pulled. The wood cracked in half, sending the rest of the platform down into the water with it. Ducking back into the cold, she evaded the debris with ease. But where was the child? She surfaced again, spotting him hanging from a valve. She grinned. He couldn't hang on forever.

And he didn't. Only a few seconds after the child had grabbed on for dear life, he let go. Granny held him firmly, making sure he couldn't escape again, and pulled him under.

Finally, after so long, Granny had a companion.

The child, however, didn't fare as well as her. He tried to scream, bubbles of precious air escaping from him, and tried to struggle. The grip on him only got tighter. Before he blacked out, he could feel himself being pulled towards his captor in an embrace.

As soon as the little body went limp, Granny tilted her head in confusion. What happened to the bubbles coming out of him? Why was his head down? Was he tired? It would figure. Swimming and hanging from valves was tiring, she supposed. But something about his rest unsettled her. She shook the body gently, trying to wake it up. The boy's body and head moved, but not of their own will. She shook harder, to no avail. She let go, and instead of sinking, like a normal, living being would in water, the child floated.


	9. 10 Months

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone knows what happens annually in the ocean. People leave the mainland and they never come back.
> 
> But what happens in between that time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright this is kinda half-baked and probably the longest work since Chapter 4 of this work. Just saying.

Every year, at the same time and never at the same place, a vessel comes out of the ocean to harbor guests. For a month or two are these people housed, then they leave, in one way, or another. The vessel is known to it’s denizens as the Maw.

But today is not the time for such events to be happening; wouldn’t be for another 10 months. In that long, in-between period of time, the Maw lay deep within the sea, hidden beneath the waves, the underwater currents rocking it back and forth ever so slightly. And in those 10 months, they would be preparing. Each soul had their own job to do. Each would make sure that they would not fail.

Down, down, down, near the bottom of the Maw, where bloodsuckers roamed, tens, maybe hundreds of children stayed. Their job was simple enough: be obedient, be smart, and offer no resistance when the time came. Trying to evade the inevitable only resulted in an even more horrible fate, as they all knew. Their time would come soon, and no amount of luck would change that.

Going a little higher than the prison walls that kept the little ones, was the impossible man’s lair. Although his job (or jobs, if you gave him credit) was overlooked by most, without him, the Maw would surely break apart. He fixed the machinery keeping the vessel alive, he disposed of what was no longer needed, and most important, he sent up the most valued ingredient to the twins.

…Bringing us to a level higher than the lair of the impossible man, the place where the twins resided and worked. When the guests were aboard, they worked day after day, cooking, chopping, washing, and mincing. The products of their job was one of the most important factors in the Maw’s life, after all.

Higher still was the Guest Area, where, as the name implies, all those who enter the Maw are housed. Here they gorge themselves on whatever they can get their hands on. They stuff their faces without even taking a moment to appreciate what the chefs below have worked so hard for. But two months after their arrival, they all go. They go, but never through the main doors.

And at the highest point of the Maw, is the very heart of the vessel, her Ladyship’s quarters. She is the one responsible for keeping her business running. The only times she ever emerges are when the season starts and she goes to her balcony near the entrance to watch the march of her guests, and when the season ends, when she takes what she needs and the rest is for the twins and the impossible man to take care of.

And inside and in between the Maw’s main areas are creatures that skitter about, curious and playful oddities that run at the first sight of danger. You could say that they are the keepers of little lost things, items so seemingly insignificant that they are treasured. But then again, how would you know?

And going back down, a little deeper than the prison, is a suitcase, with water dripping from a grate high up, dripping onto a little girl with a lovely yellow raincoat, sleeping soundly. 10 months from now, she would be woken up by a nightmare.

And going back into the prison, in a room where 20 children (give or take) slept, in two beds, side by side, lay two children; one boy, one girl. Ten months from now they would both disappear, most likely lost in secrets, never to be seen again.

But this is now, 10 months before things all went to hell, the Maw is still silent and peaceful in the night, still being rocked by underwater currents.


	10. Things Best Left Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About time I made something for the Janitor.

Another day passed in the Maw. Another 24 hours of almost nonstop work as the Guests feasted above. Soon, the cycle would come to an end and it would be another ten months of calm anticipation of the next ship to arrive. The Janitor knew this all too well. He had been working here almost as long as he could remember, after all. His work was often overlooked, yet his was one of the most important of all tasks: Keeping the Maw in working order.

Yes, he knew that the two above him cooked banquets out of what was provided from the outside world. Yes, her Ladyship made sure everything was in its place and ensuring the Maw's survival, and the playful oddities did help in their own peculiar way, but he made sure the vessel didn't collapse in on itself.

He sent up the twins' most coveted ingredient. He made sure that each child did not escape. If they did somehow, he made sure they never strayed far. He took away the now useless possessions of former Guests and stowed them away with the rest of the other lost things in his Lair. He worked nearly single-handedly behind the scenes, and sometimes he thought that he should get some damn respect for it.

Yet... 

Maybe it was best for him to stay in the shadows. He was fine where he was, and the thought of interference in his work was not a good one. It wouldn't do the Maw's reputation well to know that abominations like him maintained it.

The Janitor weaved through things now collecting dust, heading towards his room after his work for the day was finished. Cracking his neck, he pushed open the door (of sorts) in the wallpaper open, sensing that he had entered now very familiar territory. Pulling the lever that lowered his bed, he started to wonder. He had been to the mainland before, although what he did there was nothing he could recall, but he did have a name, once, though he could barely remember what it was. No need for names in a place like this, after all. It was–

His thoughts were interrupted by the trilling of a Nome. Turning his head to the source of the noise, he reached for it, and felt... nothing. It was off hiding somewhere, he figured. Not worth searching for it; it'd find its way out sooner or later. And without another word, he lay down. He had other things to worry about the next morning.

(And somewhere, deeper below where The Janitor rested, a little girl slept soundly, curled up, drops of water plinking on her yellow raincoat, ignoring the dull pain in her stomach.)


	12. Sick Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *cough cough cOUGH*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey lookit that I'm not dead!   
> Fun fact: I was (and still am) sick when I wrote this. Still coughing.  
> Having mild asthma(?) sucks

Water dripped down on her, splattering on her raincoat, as well as a gust of cold air. Pulling the too-big clothes she used as a blanket close, Six curled herself up into a smaller ball, trying to keep warm. She was sick, that was for sure. She couldn't stop coughing, and the temperature and damp environment didn't help at all.

Standing up to get another piece of bread a Nome had graciously given her the night (or was it day?) before, she shivered. No venturing out for food for at least a couple of days, until she could once again be quiet and not draw attention to herself. She bit into the bread absentmindedly, settling back down into the slightly wet cocoon of cloth she had made in the suitcase.

For whatever reason, it was big, much too large to be carried by someone her size. It was quite heavy as well, and she knew better than to waste her strength trying to move it to the drier parts of her little area. Besides, it was fine where it was. And the dripping water was for drinking, sometimes, if Six was desperate enough for that. If the dripping became too much to handle, she could close the suitcase. 

She brought her hands up for another bite, only to realize that she had gotten so lost in thought, that she had finished off the bread. She pulled her hood down, and ran her fingers through her hair. It was longer than she expected, and very tangled. After attempting to comb it with her hands for a minute, she gave up. She was bored.

Six looked at the other part of the suitcase. There was something else that came with it, aside from the clothes. Pictures. One of them was so blurry and distorted, obviously ruined by exposure or water. The other one, was also blurry, but much easier to make out shapes in it. It featured a person pointing to their right. Whoever they were wore a top hat and a coat, and strangely, had no visible eyes. They appeared to be in a dark, foggy street. Underneath the snapshot was a caption, written in capital, hasty letters.

_M T N ME, 3/29/ 937_

Six hasn't been taught how to read much, unfortunately. But she did know that it had letters and numbers. She knew her name was a number. And she knew the basics of numbers. Now that she looked at the caption, the left side of the "3" seemed smudged. Maybe it was an eight.

She fell into a coughing fit again, groaning softly afterwards. Her throat hurt. She lay down, hoping she could sleep.

Being ill sucked.


End file.
